


Let's Give Them Something to Talk About

by Mouse9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: According To, Day Two, Gen, Molly Hooper Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: According to everyone, it seems John Watson has a new inamorata.





	Let's Give Them Something to Talk About

John Watson knew when people were talking about him.

Eight years being flat mates and associates with Sherlock Homes, he’d become quite adept at sussing out when he was topic of conversation.

It hadn’t happened for a while.  Once he’d gotten married to Mary and had Rosie, the frankly ridiculous rumors that he was in a relationship with the “boffin Detective” had pretty much trickled off to the wayside…he thought.   But recently, he had noticed the nurses in his Surgery suddenly growing quiet when he stepped into a room or talking in hushed whispers while glancing superciliously towards him.   He tried to ignore it, tried to remember when the last time was that Sherlock had actually even been to his Surgery.  He realized with a start that the man had never set foot in his place of business, preferring to text him with demands to meet him either at Baker Street or the crime scene.

The nurses grew quiet once again when he stepped out of his office and he heaved a tired sigh, walking over and slapping a folder down on the counter. 

“What.”

Janice, his secretary looked up at him, startled.  Amanda and Tara, his two nurses, scattered for other places.

“What?”

“I’ve ignored the nattering on and the hushed whispers when I walk into a room, but this is getting ridiculous.  Just what is so fascinating about me that has you all clucking about like hens?”

Janice wrung her hands together, looking suddenly sheepish.  “Well, we just think that it’s lovely that you’ve found someone new.  And that she loves your daughter, but…”

“Hang on.”  To be honest, he was expecting the women to have been talking about his love life, for some reason it was always everyone’s favorite topic of conversation, but… “Someone new?”

She frowned.  “Yeah.  Your daughter’s nanny?”

“My daughter’s…”  Now he was confused.  He sure the hell couldn’t afford a nanny for Rosie.  Even if he could, he wouldn’t trust anyone with his daughter unless they were one hundred percent vetted by Mycroft and even then, he had his doubts. 

“The woman that comes in here with your little girl.”  Janice clarified.  “Drops off nappies or baby food, calls you with reminder to pick up dinner?”

John could have face palmed.  This is what the women were talking about?  “That’s Molly. She’s not a nanny, she’s a pathologist at Bart’s and Rosie’s godmother.”

Janice’s face wrinkled as if she’d just tasted something sour.  “Oh.  Don’t you think that’s a bit morbid for your daughter?”

Tara, who’d been slowly walking by eavesdropping on the conversation piped up.  “Oi, isn’t that the one who was linked with Sherlock Holmes years ago?”

John turned to her, pointing down the hallway.  “Go away.”  He turned back to Janice.  “Quit discussing my personal life.  Molly is a friend. Rosie loves her, and we are not dating.”

He turned on his heels to stomp back into his office.  He could hear Janice’s muttering before he shut the door. 

“Not really nice to just use the girl for sex.  Especially when she watches your daughter.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. Holmes, was it really the butler that did it?”

“Mr. Holmes, any thoughts on the theft of Florentine Diamond?”

“Mr. Holmes, is it true the Queen has asked for your assistance to deduce Prince Harry’s fiancée?”

“Dr. Watson, any truth to the rumors that you’re in a serious relationship with Molly Hooper?”

They were standing outside Baker Street after the capture of the latest high-profile murder where the butler had done it.  Sherlock hated those outcomes, he thought them sloppy. 

John was doing his usual to field the questions and answer as many as Sherlock wouldn’t when the last questions finally invaded his brain.  He stuttered to a stop, a look of disbelief on his face.  Sherlock turned to look at him with one raised eyebrow. 

“John?”

John shook his head to clear it and raised his hands to the press in front of them. 

“Absolutely none.  That’s enough questions for today.  Thank you.”

He hurried back into the house, Sherlock close behind.  He was halfway up the stairs when he heard the front door close and Sherlock’s voice.

 “What was that last question about, John?”

John turned around on the steps. 

“Absolutely no idea.”

“I think you have some idea.”  Sherlock persisted. 

“I really don’t.”  John shrugged.  “The women in my office were apparently discussing it a couple of days ago, but I thought I nipped it.  If I find out one of them went to the press with such a ridiculous notion.”

“John?”  The door to Mrs. Hudson’s flat opened and she poked her head out.   “Molly called dear, said the nursery school couldn’t get ahold of you.  Rosie’s come down with a fever and they want you to pick her up.    She said if you can’t, let her know and she’ll take an early lunch to get her and bring her over here.”

He could almost feel Sherlock’s amused gaze on his back like a weight. 

“Ridiculous notion?”  the other man said as he climbed the stairs.  “I’ll go pick up Rosie, as I know you have to get back to work, John.  No reason to make your girlfriend leave work.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”   John yelled up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

“Afternoon Molly.  What the latest score?”  Lestrade asked as he, Sherlock and John entered the lab.  Molly Hooper looked up from the tests she was working on to give them all a welcoming smile.

“Afternoon Greg.  The latest scores are on the white board in my office.”

“Brilliant.  Be right back.” He told the other two men before walking towards the hallway in the back of the lab. 

“You were right, it was murder.  I found drain cleaner in the blood samples.”  Molly said, turning her attention to Sherlock.  The Detective grinned as he strode over to investigate the microscope Molly had just abandoned.   She gave John another smile. 

“You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” he answered dryly, covering another yawn.  “Rosie’s teething and she won’t go to sleep.  I feel horrible for her, but I can’t take naps in the middle of the day like she can.”

“Well you could, but patients tend to frown on that sort of thing.”

“Molly, do stop flirting.”  Sherlock called out as he abandoned the microscope.  Molly gave him a grin. 

“If I were flirting, I’d tell you about Mr. Jacobson and his nine-kilogram tumor.”

“How am I being beaten by Morris in Radiology?”  Lestrade exclaimed as he reentered the main lab area.  Sherlock’s eyes lit up in excitement. 

“Malignant or benign?”  he asked.

“Benign of course.  I couldn’t get you a piece if it were malignant.”  She picked up a paper and held it out towards Lestrade.  “Because you obviously haven’t seen today’s Daily Mail article.”

Lestrade took the paper from her hands as Sherlock beamed. 

“Best pathologist ever.”  He announced, dropping a kiss onto her proffered cheek. 

Lestrade cursed as he read the article title aloud.  “Big sister dilemma:  Is Watson’s daughter about to have a younger sibling?  How will this affect the relationship between the Consulting Detective and his blogger?  How the bloody hell did I miss that?”

“What?”  John sputtered, his attention caught as Greg had read his name.  His face paled in growing horror as the remainder of the article’s title was read until finally he grabbed the paper from the Inspector Detective’s hand and read it for himself.  Molly held up a finger. 

“Because you lack imagination Greg.  Observe.”  She shrugged off her lab coat and did a little twirl to show off her bulky moss green jumper with yellow striped shirt underneath.  “Now, imagine me walking back from lunch the day before.  It’s a lovely day so I didn’t wear my jacket.  It’s a bit windy, I’d just had lunch and my jumper is a bit bulky.  Bulky jumpers obviously mean hidden baby bump.”  
“Damn, now I’m going to have to put you down for either an engagement or the nasty breakup.”

“What!”  John finally exploded.  The article was just a balderdash of conjectures, outright lies and innuendos made up for some blurry photo the paparazzi managed to get.  He closed the paper as violently as he could, his attention turning to the three people now watching him with different expressions. 

“Pray, tell us,” Sherlock started with a smirk.  “When is the happy event?”

Molly smacked his chest lightly.  “Stop it.” 

“You know about this?”  John sputtered.  Molly merely shrugged. 

“It’s been going on for a while.  I guess you two didn’t know about it because, well, you’re always in the news.  But when I started having people take my photo for no reason, I called Greg.  Sanjay on nights was the first to tell me about it.  It’s actually quite amusing at times, apparently we’ve been on again-off again for a little over a year now.”  She grinned.  “One paper even dared to suggest that I was shagging the both of you.  Behind your backs of course.”

Sherlock looked at her in amazement.  “You’ve entirely too much time on your hands Doctor Hooper.” He teased, and she giggled in response.   

“I’m sorry John, but we’re going to have to break up.”  She said once she stopped giggling.   John just stared at her. 

“We aren’t even dating.  How are you not upset by this?”

She shrugged.  “What’s the use in getting upset?  None of it is true.  The more you deny it, the more the papers are going to publish more outlandish claims.  So long as you and Sherlock know where I stand, everything is fine.”

John just shook his head.  “Was I the last to know about this?”

“That was actually me.”  Sherlock offered.  “The question at the press conference was the first I’d heard of it.  I called Molly after I picked up Rosie and she told me everything.”

He signed, folding the paper and tossing it back onto the table.  “Molly, I accept your break up.  So long as you’ll remain Rosie’s godmother.”

“Nothing could tear me away from that child.”  She confirmed. 

“So, I should put bets on the break up then.”  Greg said. 

“With the caveat that I, of course, will be the bad guy in this scenario.”  She said. 

“With that gentlemen, I believe we have a step daughter to arrest.”  Sherlock said. 

“Wait.”  John was struggling to catch up with this entire conversation.  “Why should you be the bad one in this frankly ridiculous affair.” 

Sherlock and Molly exchanged a look. 

“Because,” Sherlock bent down to press his lips against Molly’s cheek once more.  “The next headline will read: Cold hearted pathology throws over Watson for boffin Detective. Is this the end of their friendship? Shall we gentlemen?”

As John followed them out, relieved that this was almost over, but wondering if he had just missed something significant.

 

 


End file.
